POEMS. 



PHIL. FRANK. PERRY 



Persous wishing a copy ot this work may obtain it by 
aeldiessiiio- — p. F. PERKY, New Hartfotid, Conn. 




WINSTED. 

PlilNTED AT THE HERALD OFFICE. 
1869. 






POEMS. 



PHIL. FRANKfPERRY 




W I N S T £ D . 

TKINTED AT THE HERALD OFFICI 

1869. 



P5 2,55^- 



. ni of Con-ress, in the year IS'oS, by 
Entered, accovcUng to act of CO. , 






OOIVTEP^^TS 



THE ASPIRING POET TYRO. 
THE UNHAPPY PAIR. 
THE ECCENTRIC OLD BACHELOR. 
« GOOD TO HAVE IN A FAMILY:' 
A COUPLET. 
MR. GREEN. 
MR. BUM. 

A YANKEE ON THANKSGIVING. 
THE HORSE TRADE. 
THE RESOLVE OF MR. HENPECK. 
PAY THE WORKMAN. 
JONAS GINS TILL. 
A RAMBLE. No. 1. 
WINTER. 

THE ATLANTIC TELEGRAPH. 
THE CONTRAST IN SCHOOLS. 
SHREW AND SHRIMP. 
LINES ON THE DEATH OF A FRIEND. 
LINES WRITTEN IN A CEMETERY. 
STANZA TO A FRIEND. 
THE RAMBLE. No. f,\ 
CONTENTMENT. 
DITTO. 
CONTRARY. 

POEM, Delivered at a Pk-ulc in B'.irlham- 
. sted, July 4, 1868. 



r» O E M ^ . 



THE ASPIRING POET TYRO. 

Oil, liow he ^YOulcl like to l;)e truly a poet ! 
Then, having the talent, would he not show it. 
Ry scribbling out lines for the reader and printer, 
()n flowers in summer and sleigh-rides in winter i 

He only profcst^es to l)e a good rliymer; 
He leaves the sublime and the high to the climber. 
Whose mind soars upward in pace with his teeling, 
As he turns his face skyward and gapes at the ceiling. 

And he will write verses— though gaining no lucre. 
While others swap horses, play chequers or euchre ; 
And if he improves in the rhyme or the measure, 
He's pleased as old Skin Flint when counting his trea^^urc. 

His coat may be seedy ; his neck without collars; 
A tax on liis head, and his purse without dollars; 
He'll cut off the margin from some old newspapers, 
And write by daylight wlien he cannot buy tapers. 

r>ut should he be aged, and then have no money. 
To go to the poor-liouse would not be so funny : - 
And, as he hopes never to spunge from his neighbor, 
He always keeps busy at writing or labor. 

What if he write nonsense? why, do not some others :" 
Such stuff 1 they deserve to be spanked by their motlu.is? 
Yet people read ioolisliness with a great gusto, 
And meet the demand for it somebody must, oh. 
.Tanuarv 3, 18G8. 



THE UNIIAPrY PAIR. 

TPIE UNHAPPY PAIR. 

Shut the door ! 
My clean lioor ! 
Your boots are all covered — a bushel or more ! 
That my shoes should be mended last evening, you s^vol■( ! 
Ah ! forgot the molasses you bought at the store ! 
And the brine has leaked out of the meat. 
Yes ; but what do you care ? you can eat ! 

Sit and stare ! 
Just see there I 
The cat on the tai)le ! For supper eat hare ! 
And my clothes ? do you know I have ''nothing to w<ar"' 
Tiiat is lit lor a pauper or hag ? I declare 
I believe you will kill me stone dead ! 
And then how will the children be fed ? 

Almost dark ! 
I say, hark ! 
Hear the pigs squeal ! No wood I no we shan't have a spni k 
For to warm us ! No kindlings I not even a bark. 
You are chilly ; and hungry you say as a shark I 
Yes — well, supper is ready — now^ stuff! 
Did you think of the thread and the snuff : 

Oh, dear ! why 
Can't I tly ? 
Id away to the ends of the earth and not try 
To come back to this tormenting shelter ! Oh my I 
1 can never bear this ! I've a good mind to cry I 
So she sat herself down in a chair 
At the table. The unhappy pair ! 

You are hit, 
I know it, 
Rut the man is no better, ma'am, no, not a bit ; — ■ 



TIIK ECCENTPJC OLD BACHELLOK. 

On a great many married the cont can but fit 
For tlie spirit of scolding- on thousands has lit— 
On one-half of the married, or so, 
I'nless they are just married, " you know.'' 
January 7, 1SG8. 



THE ECCENTRIC OLD J3ACHELL011. 

There once lived twd girls iii thci town 6t New Haven, 
Who had cheeks like a rose and hair black as a raven. 
And there dwelt a bachelor — that is a pity — 
Who fed at a tavern in that '* Old Elm City." 

Now these charming beauties (their mothers were witches 

AVho hated old crusty but wante<l his riches,) 

For this rich old bachelor both Went a fishing, 

'Till his hard heart they softened and set him to wishing 

That he had a wife ; and so he went courting 
Witli snuff-box in pocket. lie took it, half sporting, 
xind offered a pinch to the lady. "Enough said. 
You old good-for-notliing, I nevcir will snuff wed !'' 

The old man was grieved and his heart was near broken. 
When he thought of the other to, whom he had spoken ; 
So he took his suuft-box and a cotton umbrella, 
And as soft as a kitten he wooed Isabella. 

He kept out of sight both his snuff and tobacco. 

He was bashful. She turned off the gas. It was black, oh 

So long they were kissing, so long he did tarry 

They made up their minds they had both better marry. 

They both were so foolish, at last they consented. 
The first day of xVpril should make them contented ; 



GOOD TO HAVE IK THE FAMILY. 

lUit the man was determined a 'Squire slionld unite tlicm. 
And slie as determined a Parson should splice them. 

There came !)oth a, 'Squire and a Parson to.tie thein. 
And the groom offered snuff and tobacco to try the;ii ; 
The 'Squire had a chew but Avith pleasure renewed it ; 
The practice was awiul 1 The Parson escheioed it ! 

The 'Squire was amused, and the Parson was huffy, 
The groom was perplexed and th^ bride was quite snuffy, 
P)Ut who married them I don't tell now " I thankee,*" 
r>ut you may guess at it it you are a Yankee. 



GOOD TO HAVE IN THE FAMHA'." 



ir 

"L-ar, 



I'm a great, doctor; I'll make it appeal 

That d€ath. from disease you need never fea 

P>ut m;w live in security year after year ; 

For, by taking my doses, I'll warrant you clear 

And aa sure as ffite of the health you hold dear. 

So then drive away sadness and he. of good cheer. 

But my friend, if you sneer 

At my statements, or jeer. 

You must turn a deaf ear 

To mV'ft'J.ining advertisements, bla/.ed f;ir and near 

"■ . ■ ■ 

Of my sarsapariliias, elixirs and pills. 
And-so forths andso ons, concentrated skills, 
Some great Indian doctors have left in their wil!<. 
(Sir, I anVa great. scholar.) I'he firm tliat I tUh 
Bears an old pasture weed that is death to all ill*r 
Oh I I ache to do good while my sand of life spill:-* 

jMy benignant heart thrills 

As with just a few gills 



GOQD TO HAVE IN THE FAMILY. 

Of my, wonderf Lil swiDs. , ^ , , , , . , , ^ ,,| ,,-i ^^^ . 
I discovcrjed iu India consumptip^ j /?^i7^, ,,,.,1^ /f'>!rr7^ 

I warn you, be careful ; take heed is'hat ycni buy I 
Tliere are counterfeits out, an abundant supply. 
If you want the original, genuine, why 
Just call on my agent, right oft, and be spry ; 
And do look on the bottle, (take care to look shy, 
Vov those unfeeling scoundrels don't scruple to lie. 
And they never will cry, 
Nor once cafe if you diej'^'^^' ^' ^^ "' ■ ^' - ' 
Aiid, on looking, it my ' ^" " ^ 

Name and likeness ain't there, you can't on it rely. 

I can tell your disease by a look of your hair ; 

Can restore your lost manliood ; a compound prepar*- 

With which nothing on earth can begin to compare 1 

I do ask but one trial, (I mean to be fair,) 

And now where is the raiser who thinks he can't spare 

^ust a tritle to put him in first-rate iei>air ? nJ. 

In my profits, so rare, 

Every druggist may share, 

Who is honest and square, 
And it's sold by all such through the nation, I sicear!'^ 

Wherever one looks, and wherever he goes, ;a vy],']" 
lie finds my advertisements under his nose, , .^^^^(.5 ^^p^ 
Oil rock, wall and paper, in rhyme and in prose; 
And v,hen reading his daily he comes to my hhtc-^- 
IJuawares, in a piece, when he gets near its close. 
^^'here the wondrous eflects of the thing I propose . 
And he finds affixed rows 
Of names, cured of woes 
Which their life-blood jiigh froze, — 
y«.s. and made them all tingle feom noddle to toes, 

My medicine Ahnanac— take one, it's free ; 
It will make disease hop like a cricket or flee ; 



10 GOOD TO IIAA E IN THE FAMILY. 

And in French, Dutch or English there is mj^ long [)lc.'t 
Which denounces all humbugs ; and says " as lor me 

I am honest, as hundreds and thous^pds agree. 

II one bottle don't do, try. another ; lor we 

Can exactly foresee, 
That your ailment must bet 
Of the highest degree, 
But a dozen must bring you out st^raight I .. JD.on't you av' 

I know where a bottle raided one almost, dead- 
Doctors said he must die; I went there and plead — 
He took a teaspoonful and raised up his head, 
And grew rapidly better as on it he fed, 
And, on taking the bottle he sprang from his he<l 
.Just as sound as a dollar 1 disease had all lied ! 

Yes, he had health instead ; 

And althougii he was bled,, 

Yet his face it looked red. 
And all done by my Cure All Balsam, he said ! 

It is your secret habits, .friend^ makes you look pale — 
For the sum of one dol\ar Isend folks, by mail 
Sealed so close that no postmaster now out of jail 
Would risk ever to open, and then turn tell-tale. 
2^^They are good for the ladies and never will katl 
So now come, my good friend, and do tell me your ail— 

And you need not bewail, 

For, what I have for sale 

Fi-om a Tropical vale, 
It will kill your derangement and make you look hale. 

His advertisement through ? 
" Yes." Well, what must ensue 
If these wonders are true ? 
Such dead shots at disease, 
(I must say if you please) 
i?uch miraculous capers, 



GOOD TO HAVE IN THE FAMILY. 11 

Publislied wide by these papers, — 

And Almanac makers 

As honest as Quakers, — 

Must starve undertakers, 

And " raise the Old Harry" 

Among all who carry 
On business dej3cnding on sickness or death ! 
The ]M. D.'s and sextons may well catch for breath— 

Their business all spoiled ; 

Their highest hopes foiled ; 

One must lay by his spade 

And learn a new trade ; 

And Knights Alopathic 

And Wights Homosi^athic, 

Must write up their bills, 

And lay by their pills, . 

Their mercury, jalaps, 

Fly blisters, and juleps. 

And all sorts of plasters 

For cuts, for disasters. 

And little pills, neat, 

Made like sugar so sweet, 
To be put in a tumbler two-thirds full of water, 
And Botanic drinks, hot as red pepper and hotter. 

These awful reverses 

3Iay fat doctor's horses, 

But, alas ! lor their purses I 

The leeches and nurses 
Will become thin as shadows 1 think, and what vYoihe is 

In sickness forever 

Be used again never, 
But will live as perplexed as a man who writes verses. 



A COUPLET. 

If ''Fools and children tell the truth/ 
1 would that all were fools or 3'outh. 



12 MR. GREEN. 

MR. GREEN. 

(Ill the Eastern part of the toAvu of New Hartford, Conn., is a rocky 
glen, known as Satan's Kingdom. In the earl}- settlement of tlmt 
part of the eonntry, the incident happened uiwn which the foll<)%viiiu- 
Sh founded.] 

'Tis a rugged mountain land 

Where are steeps sublime and grand 

That is called by this droll name, 

" Satan's Kingdom !" What a shame I 

In this land dwelt a recluse, 

Sheltered from the world's abuse, 

And his woodlands did extend, 

Near to Satan's Kingdom's end. 

On the pastures, rough and steep, 

Ranged his flock of sharp-nosed sheep. 

He was great on raising peas, 

Catching trout and hunting bees ; 

Great to hunt the skunk and coon, * 

By the light of Autumn moon ; 

Great on chopping log or pole, 

Peeling bark and burning coal. 

And, while jockeys played the knave, 

Ife would hemlock shingles shave. 

He would mind his business, own. 

And his neighbor's let alone. 

Well, he rose one Sunday morn, 

Drove the pigs out of the corn, 

(Which had just begun to silk,) 

Breakfasted on bread and milk, 

Picked his teeth, and took a chew 

Of tobacco — (honey-dew,) 

Calmly weighed the matter well, 

PIow^ that xVdam and Eve tell. 

Finally he " rather guess"ed 

lie would fix up in his best. 

And would go to meeting once. 



MR. GREEN. I'd 



If they took liim for a dunce ; — 
For be was quite tall and lean, 
And "svas certainly quite Green, 
Took his razor — once bran new. 
Strapped it well upon his shoe, 
And with wondrous twist and grin, 
Raked his face from eyes to chin. 
Then with tallow (a large piece), 
Made his shoes as slick as grease. 
Nut-brown pants of corduroy 
Siiort enough for a " big boy," 
Vest, the shade of yellow snuff; 
And a coat of some queer stuff, 
• With nice buttons of good brass ; — 
Donned the suit and guessed he'diyciss. 
Combed a week's snarls from his hair. 
(Oftener he could not bear, 
For his life he could not say. 
How some combed 'em every day.) 
On his stove-pipe hat he drew, 
Like his razor — once Iran new. 
Then he went without delay. 
To a church five miles away ; 
Only staid to hear one prayer. 
Then went home in great despair. 
Soon his sadness was perceived, 
And folks wondered why he grieved. 
" Well," to tell them lie began, — 
And his face with rage was wan, — 
" I will never go to hear 
That man preach again ; oh, clear ! 
Why, the fellow made a prayer 
That I thought was pretty fair 
'Till he came 'most to amen. 
When he hit me, there and then ; 
For he prayed, (it mc annoyed.) 
' May Satan's Kingdom be destroyed !' 



.14 MR. GKEEN. 

My possessions, he knew, lay 
la that land, (five miles awav !' 



All smooth parsons who would please, 
And your hearers keep at ease, 
Never pray with earnestness, 
I'or destruction on the place 
Where you know their treasures are, 
Or you won't come up to par. 



MR. BUM. 

]\Ir. Bum, a bulbous man. 
With a little farm, began 
Scratching for himself and wife, 
And he led an easy life. 

Once he went to fish lor dace, 

With Jack Finn, who came apace ; 

So his wile said, " Mr. Bum, 

You may bring some sugar hum ; 

Oit some matches where you go ; 

Don't for git some indigo ; 

Git some camphor-gum and spice." 

Bum was angry in a trice. 

'* It is always git and buy 

Everlastingly, and I 

Had as lief you'd knock me down," 

Said Mr. Bum, with angry frown, 

" As to say to me, git, git." 

Mr. Bum remembered it, 

Bought some spice when at the store ; 



Mil. BUM. 

Sugar, )3ought a pound or niQre,. ' 
Indigo .and camphor gum, 
And of India cockle some» 
And two quarte of Holland gins ' 
For himself and Jackey Finn* .1 

Then they drove on to the place*: t 
Where theyiwere to iish ior dace,: 
Threw the India cockle in 
To the stream, and to«k some gin. 
Soori the giddy fish came up ;: ; 
Grunting Bum, with a hiccoughs' . 
"\y adod in and took fish out, , , ; 
Waul-eyed dace, and a few trout. 

Mr. Bum and Mr. Finn, , ,..,1. .,, 
(After taMing of thegia .,;,,, -.^(ff..^ 
When they felt inclined to drink.) 
Loitered on the river's brink, 
'Till they felt "as rich; as Jcwg,"-— 
And they talked about the hliics^ 
And they w,ond<^red any map ,., 
Could be sad. — and, their tp^igues ran 
On the feats that each could do. 
Bum — the drunkest of the two — 
Climbed a rock and said " look Jack, 
See Bum dive." The mud was black, 
Soft, and two feet deep or more, 
With a.,f9Qt ot^'wajtjer o'ey . , 
Bummy dove, head first, " kerchuck," 
In the mud, and there he stuckr-r- 
Ilead: below and heels ahoy. 
Looking like a /b^si7>MM/, 
And, had he not been pulled out. 
Eels a crawiing thereabout, 
Tempted by the smell of gin. 
Would have cat him ! Do. not grin. 



1« MR. BUM. 



Wlic-n the nuid washed fiohi Bum, 

He looked rery hive and mum;— 

Winked atld bhnked and spiited out 

Mud arid liquor, and, a trout. 

He with brimstone, spice and gum, 

Was perfumed like mummy dumb I 

He had put the indigo 

In the pockets of his tow 

Pantaloons, and sugar too, 

Which the' wat^r soaked all through. 

From his waist down to his shoe, 

He was very sweet and Uae 

From dissolving indigo, 

And the sugar sweet, '' you know." 

Mr. Bum and Jackey Finn, 
Being nearly out of gin. 
Drove like smoke away for hunij 
Wagon rattling like a drum. 
" Let me drive," said Jackey Finn. 
Jack then drove. The wheels did spin, 
But, in ttirning short around • '^ 
BothW-ere qnlt upon the ground, 
In a corner of the fence, ' 

And lay still, like men of sensGj - 
Wagon seat to cover them. ■ '" 
There they lay and sweat. Ahem I 

ADVICE TO MR. BUM. 

When you fish with Jackey Finn, 
Do not buy two quarts of gin.: 
If your pants are white and toW:, ; 
Keep out of them indigo, . i/A 
Or you will come out in blue, r-I 
When yoit wad« in water — whew! 
Cautious how you dive, kerchuck, 



A YANKEE ON TIIANKSGIYINCr. 17 

In the mud, — you may get stuck. 
And, take my advice for once, ' 
Diive your horse yourself, you dunce. 



A YANKEE ON THANKSGIVING. 

A Yankee in a foreign land, cadaverous and lean, 

Upon .1 tine Thanksgiving day in saddest mood wa.s seen ; 

In his throat rose up a choking, and the tears came in his cy^i, 

When he thought of roasted turkey, and buttered chicken pl«*. 

With customers around him, (no smile lit up his face,) 

His mind was quite bewildered, and faltering his pace ; 

Banannas, lemons, oranges, and other foreign fruit*, 

For pumpkin pies and roasted rib were but poor sub.stitutei«. 

He danced with Senorittas to drive away his grief. 

And spent his money ik-eely, but nothing gave relief, 

Until the happy moment he vumed he would sell out 

And journey back to Yankeedom, and hunt, and fish ibr trout. 



THE HORSE TRADE. 

Ike Jockey had a balky liorse, — 
The nag w^as twenty-one — 

And ''got him ofl[" on Hocorn, lor 
A doul)le- barreled gun. 

Said Hocorn, *' Will he kick, or jump 
And is he young and sound ? 



18 THE HORSE TIUDE. 

And will he draw a decent load 
Up-lwU, on $andy; ground V 

Ike spread bis hands above the beast, 
And said, '* lie's under ten, 

And, at the bottom ol a hill, 

You will find him there. And then" 

"The critter never troubled me 

With any bad mishaps ; 
And he will draw a load of hay 

Or draw a score of chaps." 

So Hocorn " struck a trade" with Ike, 

Alas ! alas ! tor Ho,, 
The horse was ugly, lame, and blind. 

And balked, and would not go. 

lie kicked, and knocked the dasli board in 

And hit the nose of Ho., 
And on one frosty morn, the beast 

Lay dead upon the snow. 

Said Hocorn, " Ike, that worthless, old 

Unruly horse is dead ; 
His age was more than twenty years, 

The man who raised him said." 

" You said he never troubled you, 
A score of chaps would draw ; 

Was under ten, and would draw hay, — 
ril sue you at the law." 

Said Ike, '' I spread above the beast 
My fingers and my thumbs ; 

My thumbs count two, add fingers eight, 
And ten the answer comes." 



THE RESOLVE OF MR. HENPKCK. li>. 

'• I said tb ^,1; you w.oulcl find him there ; 

And w«is he not^, ,1 beg ? 
For, at the bottom of a hill. 

He would uot move a leg." 

" What if he ran and smashed my sleig]\, 

And kicked me on ixiy feoee ^ 
I don't allow such little things 

To ever trouble me !" 

"And from a rack he would draw hay. 

He smashed your spacious nose, 
But now he's dead he lolll draw chaps— 

A score of chaps, sir, — crows 1" 



THE RESOLVE OF MR. HEJ^TECK. 



Ifvi^^en I wed I take a wife, — 
At first all airs and siniles, — 

Who afterwards a vixen proves, 
I will run twenty miles. 

Or, ii a learned authoress 
Who many books compiles ; 

Yet if she scolds me terribly, 
I will run fifty miles. , 

For I had rather live upon 

Juan Fernandez isle. 
Yes, ni run much farther still, 

ril run a hundred miles. 

And if she's bound to gad abo^it. 
AVith tales of slander, vil^, 



THE R SOLACE OF MR, HEiSrECK. 

If I can raise the cash,.iw>doubt, 
I'll run two hundred iirftes; 

And if she stArvos^Uttrfeelf arid me. 

That she may dress in style ; 
I will not even say good-bye, 

But run three hundred miles. 

Or should she a bad elatterri prove, 
And rocks in dirt the while ; 

Too lazy iquite to «we6p or breathe, 
I'll run four hundred miles. 

And should I have a pile of gold, 

As large as Astor's pile ; 
And she will spend the whole of it, 

1*11 run live hundred miles. 

A horrid din about my ears, 
Like sawmill, saw and tile, 

Would raise my temper with my fejirs, 
To run six hundred miles. 

And if she proves ft wilfovl wife, 
With awful "grit," and "bile;" 

For fear you'll hear of my decease, 
I'll run sev'n hundred miles. 

And if she overflows with rage. 

As Ganges, or the Nile ; 
And thrashes me, her woi^thv mnn (?) 

I'll run eight hundred miles. 

Or like a tymnl.'fUle^'thc house, 
With heart as hard as tile ; 

Cair m6^ a goose if I don't fun, ' 
AboT^it iii'/ie huhdftd hlilcs. 



PAY THE WOR]vMAX, M 

Auu if she calls it "Woman's Riiflits," 
To liectof, yell, arid storm so v,il(l ; 

l)eclare arid sweai', '' the breeches -svcar/' 
I'll run a thousand miles. 



PAY \THE WORKMAN. 

Old Tenper Cent erected a building with a hall 

L p in the second story, for concert or for ball, 

And, when almost completed, he called out from the groiiud, 

" ^peak loud up there my workman to hear how it will sound.' 

'■ What shall I 'speak so loud, teir ?"' " Oh, .anything you caa." 
The workman cleared his htisky throat, and loudly he began, 
'• Six months upon his building three men have loiied jsnd sweat, 
And not a man been offered one cent of monev vet 1" 



JONAS GINSTILL. 

. ..J ■ 

He heircd a good fortune, of friends he had many 
Had plenty of money, a home good as any. 
His wife and his children were good and contentci 
liut this did not last for his habits prevented. 

Jack Merry called on him on morning. Said he, 

" Come Jonas Qinstill let tjs.go ou a spree, 

You know that a ffpcro, a bust, or a scide^ 

An old iiK^lnonQd U'ctinin(/ iiiH^' uiake us both hale. 

■van ."ill: 
So Jo. le^ iiis liome op thf^t_ mglj)., snnpy. morn. 
He went to t]}e dram sliop .^i^jcl Jt^>j?r,e tpoka hvr/i, 



2i JONAS GINSTILL. 

And then every time tliat Jack Merry was dnj^ 
Why, Jonas did aometliimj without asking why. 

lie treated Jack Merry to many a drinlc^ 

A dram, a pMegmcnttcr, a smiles and a ichiks 

A sling, and a ichiHtle, a glass, and a smile, 

Till both were in liquor, in old toper style. 

They had heeii to the springs; had a good load a'board, 

And rich as the Rothschilds in fancy they soared ; 

They wei'ebuckedMue, and hoozy, conied,cidered and r/racl'<"\ 

And sprung, slued, and tlpsT/, n^d pretty well^^ackei. 

Had hi too much ballast, were sniohj and swiped; 
Were tongue-tied and tipsy and mellow and striped^ — 
When loell to the leeward, tiro sheets in the loind. 
They came to an anchor, at each other grinned. 

Now Jackey and Jonas both took a ground sweat \ 
They mumbled out cursings, and vengeance and threat ; 
And then they had dreams, (but I ought not to tell 
For they dreamed of hobgoblins and d — Is in h — 11 ! 

Alas for poor Jonas ! He had a good name, 
But now it is spoiled, and his prospects the same ; 
He drinks, swears and gambles; he bets at the race ; 
His money is squandered, and mortgaged his place. 



A RAMBLE. No. 1. 

Sailors, vagrants, visionaries, 
Politicians, mercenaries, 
People proud, atid people humble, 
What a mixture I what a jumble ! 



A RAMBLE. 

See that vagrant beg a penny, 
Once he had of millions many ; , 
Dogs and iiorses made him debtor, 
M-oncy lent to Kandoo Better, 
And his friend, (so nice and funny,) 
Mr. Luytoo Skattur Muny. 

Like a mist upon the mountain, 
Or the bubbles at a fountain, 
Like a fairy-queen procession, — 
Vanished all his vast possession. 

Since those leeches have bereft him 
Of his money, they have left him. 

Trouble comes, friends, gay and flirting. 

Lose no time in us deserting. 

There is one without decision, 

All his life has been a vision 

Of a future very pleasant, — 

But he could not solve the present, — 

Once he might have been a teacher. 

Of a proper, prosy preacher; 

Once assayed to be a lawyer; — 

Now he is a sorry sawyer. 

Day by day compelled to labor 

For old Pinch, his stingy neighbor. 

More than sixty years his age is. 

Yet he hopes before life's stages 

Close with him, he may be famous. 

(And should we, why, who can blame us I?) 

He has searched to find in Nature, 
Specimen of plant or creature, 
Hunted alter bird or reptile, 
With imagination fertile ; 
Botanized upon the heather; 



A RAMBLB. 

Broke a rock, in wonder whether 
Ages after this old planet 
Shall be stripped of mankind, can it 
Be that beings, to us equal, 
Shall attempt to'solve the sequel, 
(A.nd have penetration able,) 
When they find an ocean cable. 
When they find a railroad section, 
Of a steamer, in perfection, 
Buried deep below the strata 
Where flowed Hudson or La Plata ? 
Will there live a giant people, 
Taller than the tallest steeple, . 
(Tallest pines to them be hedges,) 
Hurling at each other ledges? 
(After ages pass between us,) 
Fighting with the men in Venus ? 

AVe think strange the Colisseum, 
W^onder at the Mausoleum ; 
But the mind's imagination 
Can pass powers of narration I 
See that man, once fair and ruddy, 
He has persevered in study, , 
Through the fields of science wandered. 
And oi> Nature's workings pondered ; — 
Has outstripped each listless laggard, 
]kit his look is wan and haggard, 
From intensest application. 

Well, he has an education, 

And seems guileless ; none suspect him. 

But they could not, sir, elect him. 

His opponent w^as a hatter, 

Amlhe s'jioke like — well, no matter — 

Blab befched forth with nerve unshaUm, 

Oft lor wisdom' has been takrn \'' 



A RAMBLE. 

And the man who talks but fiction 
Earnestly, may bring conviction. 

Foolishness is often sp«ken 

From a heart, when almost broken. 

Fate decided, and the good man 
Fell like oak before the woodman, 
And, in voting, one and-eighty 
Most were found for Brassy Platey ;— 
And no other man was tit, less 
It was '^ Wamba, son of Witless." 
The defeated's name was stainless. 
And the brassy man was brainless ; 
Yet, in many's estimation. 
He was best of all creation. 
Pompous, noisy, very weighty 
Man, was 3Iister Brassy Platey. 

So some mean men run the strongest. 
And some rascals live the longest. 

Charley Tarley was an urchin 

Sent to school which had the birch in '. 

Ran away, became a sailor ; — 

Now aboard the Zaehy Taylor. 

Though his youth has tied, and beauty. 

Age has made him true to duty.' 

Salty sailor, like an otter 
Loves to dwell upon the water. 

After taking grog and gnth, he 
Thinks the weather rather muggy; 
And his tongues the brave yarns rattle*. 
Of a dozeh naval battles ; — 
But before tlie darkness tbickens. 



WLN'TEIi. 

Sees lie Mother Gary's cliickeng, 

And his breast is ill at ease, as 

Pine trees moaning in the breezes. 

Now in silent meditation, 

On the quirks of navigation, 

Grave as any doubting dominee, 

In the swamps of Chickahominy ;— 

And his joys all turn to sorrow, 

When the gale comes down to-morrow. 

Thus we have, through life's short measures, 

Pains to-day, to-morrow pleasures ; 

Every person trouble borrows 

And all hearts have hidden sorrows. 



WINTER. 

Listen to the song I sing you — 

If it sounds some like another. 

In its metre, in its measure, 

Do not Say I am transgressing 

Any rule or law poetic. 

If that metre is a measure 

Of an ancient Finnish poem, 

Then it ours is in common ; — 

Else who writes in common metre, 

Is, of course, an imitator 

Of the lucky ancient poet 

Who first scribbled common metre. — 

But that metrQ, like all others. 

Is the common stock of poets. 

If you hearken to my musings, 

You must take such as I give you ; — 

So " here goes" the song of Winter.— 



WINTER. 

On the first day of December, 
The first second in the morning, ■ 
Saw young Winter coming, treading 
Close upon retreating Autumn, 
By the cold and chilly moonlight^ 
In the calm and stilly midnight. 

Thrifty farmer's crops were gathered, 
And the bleating sheep were driven 
From the fernhill brakes and bushes, 
To the barnyard with thie cattle. 

Winter casts his eyes about Mm, 
With a freezing, frigid frowning. 
And he saw the land quite naked, 
And the rippling waters sparkling ; 
Saw the sturdy farmer's fruitage 
Safely sheltered from the biting 
Searchirigs of his royal highness. 

All the meadows, green and flow'ring, 
Made by Autumn bleak and barren, ' 
Had their frosty coat, and crisping, 
And the forest leaves had fallen 
Lifeless, by the breath of Autumn, 
From among the tangled bushes, 
And the mossy angling branches 
Of the great trees in the forest. 

Winter whispered for a mantle; ■ 
Soft, and pure, and white as swan's down, 
For the earth so chill and naked. 

Snow-storm heard the call of winter, 
And he straight began to gather 
Quickly to one point of compass ; 
"Called together all his forces, 



And began t9 spread, a mantlCj 

On the footman's head and sboul^l^'Sr 

On the na^ed, stony pastures, 

On the brpwn and barren meadows, 

Which at first was thin and scanty, 

But inciea8,ed, grew deeper, deeper. 

jSIantle, thick and deep, comi^leted, 
Then, was spread all oyer nature, 
On the naked land and forest, 
Capping fores-t treqs and fences ; 
Pretty, shining, blinding mantle. 

Winter, ,lond of cjatting capers, 
Beckone(;T to old fi-igid Boreas, 
Iluler of the Polar Region, 
Showedjiim all the jippiing waters, 
Clear as crystal, fre^ and sparkling, 
And the pretty, shining mantle ; 
Asking him to bind the waters. 
And tO; stake the quiet mantle. 

Boreas boupd tjtfem witji his ice chain*^ 
Chained the free and placid waters, 
With his nice chains clear as crystal. 
Firmly^ firmer, firmer bound them. 
ThcnJL^aw the cheerfiil, shouting 
Skatei:^ g^itle. ac^'oss ih^^ welters ; , 
Skim the surface like a swallow 
Twittering o'er the d^irk deep. Wf^t^ry. - 
Mqjry,. fleeting., laughing skaters,,. 
Cutting circle«,iantic^, capers. . 

BjQ.reas breatl;ied upon tlfe mantle, 
Lijgh^,i^pd; feathery ; stro;;iger, etryngei 
Witji a breath all sharp and bitii^g, 
Moaning, whining, driving, roarin.^j. 



Knocking caps from roofs and fenee-posts, 
And the green trees of the forest^ 
Evergreen-tieea of the wild wood, 
Helter skelter hurled th6 snok caps, 
Caught attd Whisked them all in eiiivers. 
And hurled onward, hurry scurry, 
Feathery sh-ftw flakes of the mantle, 
Dancing in the cold, pale moonlight, 
Through the leafless shrubs nAd bushes ; 
Driving in upon the hayniowsy 
And through ancient, rattling window*. 
Into garrets, sheds aiid chambers, 
On the herbs- and antiquated 
Regimentals, books and papers, 
Hats and bonnets, old utensils, 
(Relic ol the parent's parents) 
Found in anti<^j[uated gart-ets, 
With the dusty, musty rubbish. 

Shooting past the building's corner, 
x\.nd in eddies turning, twisting, 
Fi-isking, whisking round the bui'k^iugs. 
And' the angles of the fences ; 
Round in curling eddies flying, 
And' around the fences pilmg. 
And actoss the highway drifting,- 
Piling higher than the fences. 
Teams ftompassiiig, ^hitk^ preventing. 

On that chicly ^'in'ter evening,' 
Thrifty ianliers sous and daii^htexs, 
Gathered votlhd the blazirig faggoti-.. 
Piling h'fgh the tWk ling fuel, 
Reading news or learning lessons, 
'Eating tipples, cratkin'g walnuts; ■ 
Butternuts and jokes and so tortli. 
Or, with mouth and eyes wide open, 



WIHTEB. 

Hearing stories interesting, 
Of some gliQst or apparition ; 
Legends of the savage Indians ; 
Sure true signs, and: diabolic 
Witchcraft ^tones frpm.th.e grandma. 

On that freOzing, g:loomy evening; ; 
Homes where thither was,?i drunkard, 
Or, who hated wife and children, — 
Or with h\zy, vixen jnother, 
One who hated child or husband, 
And with snarling, ugly children, — 
Without natural alfection, 
Dispossessed of every virtue,,, — 
Home in old and shackling building : 
Hats and bonnets stuffed in windows ; 
Home, of food and fuel scajity, 
Slattered, cold and httlfclad itimates, 
Were of misery the climax. 

Oh ! thepopr, the lorlorn wretches ! 
Iieave>! oh ! leave them not to sufl'er 
In the cold and; gloomy season,, 

Sturdy fl^rmers rose in morning, 
Cleared the snow-bank from the threshold, 
AVent ^p. barns, a^nd; fed their cattle, 
Dug a, path to well and wood-pile, 
Finished chores and ate their breakfasts. 
Sturdy farmers yoked their oxeu^ 
And with plows, and sleds, and shovels ; 
..With.strpng limbs and perseverance 
Toiling oxen,, toiling: farmery , . 
Like a sqi^£^<^ ot.busy ,ininer$,r,j,.irj 
Through the snow-banks drove a passage, 
All along the highway drifted. 
And the, busy wives ol farmers, 



WINTER. ^U 

With their brooms and buxom dallgh1[r'v^, 
Climbed to garrets, slied and chambers. 
And cast out the bold intruders, — 
Feathery snow-flakes of the mantle. 

Winter beckoned to old Ice Storm. 
Down he came upon the Ibrest, 
And upon the snow- white mantle, 
All the angling limbs encrusting, 
And encrusting earth's white garment : 
And when Sol rose up that morning, 
And lit up the icy forest, 
Forest slioue like fiery diamonds, 
Countless, splendent, brilliant, glorious. 

Winter's da3's gj'ew' short and shorter; 
As our days gt-oio short and shorter; 
And the air grew bleak and chilly. 
As those hearts grow ])leak and chilly, 
Who will make a god of money. 

Urchin started one cold morning 

From warm bed and frosty chamber, 

Dressed him nimbly in a hurry. 

And ran, shivering, for the heater. 

Frizzle-headed, scowling urchin, 

Warmed, and then went to the window. 

Rubbed his fingers on the glasses 

Of the flow'ry frosty window. 

Gave a sage prognostication. 

Then went moping to the wash-room, 

Dreading w^ater like fi mad dog. 

Washed his face and hands and combed him. 

Ate his breakfast in a hurry. 

Took his satchel books and dinner, 

Started lor the country school house, — 

For the school house with such pleasure 



S:i -WTNTEK. 



As a miser spends a dollar ; 
As we feel when Pain, the dentist. 
Plies the cold steel to our molars, — 
Like a ship upon the ocean. 
On the wavy snow banks running, 
Over hills and through the valleys. 
Rising, falling on the snow-banks. 
On the squeaking snow, and wavy, 
Fearing toes and ears were freezing. 
Little urchin soon arrived at 
Shiftless, ventilated school-house, 
Took his seat upon a slab-bench, 
Shaking like a poplar leaflet ; 
" Cast a dunce eye" on the master, — 
Just to ascertain his temper — 
Asked if he might "go t'the fire ?" 
Went and warmed his ears and fingers, 
Frosty urchin scowled and sniveled, 
Thawing out his aching fingers. 



Then the urchin went a coasting ; 
Drew his sled to top of Steep Hill, 
And upon his sled was seated, 
Proud as on a throne of kingdom. 
Gravitation drew his sled down, 
Jumping, whizzing, down the steei> hill 
And the boy sat on, and steered it, 
Clear of rocks, and trees, and fences. 
So old Time draws down a kingdom ;- 
Clear of dangers, of rebellions. 
Monarch sits and tries to guide it. 
Water oozing from the ledges 
Froze in mimic slip'ry stairways. 
Water trickling near the by-road, 
Fiom the overhanging ledges, 
Froze in sculpture and in ice-cones. 



WINTER. 

Stalactitic, stalagmitic 

In the ragged cliffs and ledges. 

Ev'ry cataract was steaming 
As would tepid water, pouring ; 
Steaming breath of beast or people, 
zVnd the white smoke from the chimneys, 
Vanished iil the stinging, freezing, 
Gloomy, searching, cold, cold, weather. 

Many angry, horizontal 

Clouds \vere stretched across the sunrise, 

Rigid bars across the sunshine. 

Shearing sun of every warm beam. 

Sol was peeping through the dark bars, 

As a culprit through his gloomy-; 

Iron grated prison window, 

Looking pale and quite dejected. 

Tongues and lips and moistened lingers, 
Stuck to steel or iron, closely 
As a miser to his money. 

All the railroads were blockaded, 

In the cuts through hills ahd ledges, 

On the truck, in many places, 

Hose the formidable sndw- drifts. 

All the engines, in the morning 

Were' brought into reqilisition. 

Started, dnving on like Jehu, 

Rushing, plunging into snow-banks. 

Slacking, coming to a cTc^d set. — 

As school children, when their lessons 

Bring vexations and no pleasures, — 

'Tis so hard to ilnderStand them— 

As they reticat in their studies 

Far enough to gain momentum, 

Then go plunging forward through them 



34 



So they backed away from snow drifts, 

Far enough to gain momentum ; 

Then the thundering, locomotives, 

Driven as by Seven Furies, 

Came on phinging into snow banks, ; 

Driving on beyond the sticking 

Point, that had completely :^toj3ped ^hem. 

Boreas obeyed ohl Winter, 
Chilled and gloomy kept all Nature, 
'Till the weather moderated, 
And there came a fog and rain storm, — 
January thaw and freshet,— 
Making very splashy walking, • 
Soaking, spoiling Winter's mantle. 
Little brooks were rushing torrents, ' 
Dashing onward, roiled and muddy; 
Swollen rivers burst their fetters, 
Sent the ice cake3 floating down stream, 
Dancing- on the f6aming current, 
Coming crash against the bridges, 
Often knocking out their trestles, 
Sometimes crashing down the l^ridges, 
Rolling on w^th wreck and flood trash, 
Dowi? the rapids rushing, roaring. 
Over mill-dams topsy turvy. 
Splashing, spraying, onward leaping 
DoAvn the swollen turbid river. 

Snow-storm spread another mantle 
Over leaflesSj gloomy Nature. 

Boreas, at ^ nod from Winter, 
To his post came, loi,idly whistling, 
And made freezing frigid weather, 
'Till old Sol was n earing zenith. 
When he left upon suspicion. 



THE ATLANTIC TELEGRAPH. 35 

Causing Winter's heart, to fail him. 

He had lost his main dependence ; 

So his icy heart grew softer, 

'Till one dull, and darkish midnight. 

The last day of February, 

The last second of the evening— 

On their beds lay people sleeping, 

Cattle quiet in the stables, 

Sheep were resting on their fleeces, 

Eveiy thing among the living 

Weary, quietly reposing. 

Winter then left his position, 

As some clerks resign their stations, — 

Many men decline an office, — 

For the all-prevailing reason^ 

That it could not be avoided ; 

And a sudden resignation 

Sounds much better on the water, 

Than an absolute expulsion ; 

Or some crude and misty, puzzling 

Ambiguities of poets. 



THE xVTLANTIC TELEGRAPH. 

Hark ! What mean those exultations ? 

Hear the cheering, loud and long ; 
What rejoicing through the nation I 

'Tis a universal song. 
Hear the bells and cannon pealing, 

Over ocean, over land I 
What has caused such joyous feeling ? 

What this celebration grand ? 



63 THE ATLANTIC CABLE. 

A strange thing 1 — Why, folks are standhi- 

Near the ocean, either side, 
And by telegrams are talking 

Through the ocean waters, wide, 
By a telegraphic cable. 

Which successfully is laid, 
Notwithstanding all the trouble. 

And the failures that were made. 

It is laid o'er hills and mountains 

Through the undulating deep, 
Wliere the dead ot many nations 

"Mong the wrecks of vessels sleep, 
Dead — the victims of ai 'famine, 

Dire disease or cruel war,'^— 
In the charnel ocean soundings, 

From their homes and friends afar. 

Where lie sunken ships, and pennon. 

Iron cable, ahot and shell ; 
Heavy anchors, heavy cannon. 

Far beneath the ocean swell ; 
Where are hidden jewels jDretty. 

Mines of silver, mines of gold ; 
Where are gems of rarest beauty, 

Ocean's riches, great, untold. 

Where no billow chases billow, 

Where no raging storm can come ; 
Deep down in the coral meadow, 

In a pearly quiet honie. 
Vessels, on the ocean sailing, 

In the vault above will shine ; 
Like some fay tlie moonlight veiling, 

Anil know not they cross that line. 

Ye of spirit enterprising,) 
Lay a cable round the earth ; 



THE CONTRAST IN SCHOOLS. 

An achievement beyond prizing, 

Of inestimable worth. 
Then we'll send a word by lightning, 

Kound this planet to the east, 
Mark the time it takes in trav'ling. 

And receive it from the west. 



THE CONTRAST IN SCHOOLS. 

I like to see a school house neat, 
With every pupil in his seat 
As busy as the i>usy bee, 
And yet from noise and mischief free. 
Without a taidy, lazy boy 
To come in late to us annoy ; 
Without a mischief makiug child 
To scatter round us discord wild ; 
Where all are anxious to improve 
The gift of a fond parent's love. 
A quiet, smiling, happy face. 
With every thing in just its place ; 
If tasks are hard, Avhy, they will try^ 
And they will never tell a lie. 
And kindred vices they abhor, 
Their motto is '• excelsior." 
And when they pass out to their play, 
Upon the bright and sunny day, 
'Tis then the model pupiVs life 
Is pleasant, merry, free from strife. 

And then, again, I know of schools 
Where pupils act almost like fools. 
Instruction's voice they will not heed. 
And so they cannot learn to read. 



TAIITS OF SPEECH. 

The boys and girls there snarl and scowl ; 

They act as stupid as the owl ; 

They are as lazy as the drones, 

And read and speak in drawling tones. 

There wilful boys declare they " shan't" 

And fearful girls oft. say " I cant." 

They scrape and stamp and thus they make 

A noise which makes my head to ache. 

The school begins at nine o'clock, 

But half are absent, (half are not) 

And finally they come in late, 

And in each pocket is a skate ! 

They take their seats without excuse, 

But will not learn, so " what's the use ?" 

Their conduct, too, at the recess, 

To say the least is most graceless. 

They strike and pinch, they scratch and bite. 

Like dogs and tigers growl and fight, 

They lie and swear, they contradict. 

They kick, and then in turn get kicked, 

I say, enough ; and leave the rest. 

The reader knows it can be guessed. 



PARTS OF SPEECH. 

A Noun is the name of a person, place, or thing. — 

A Pronoun must stand for a Noun, too, as we sing — 

A Verb shows action or existence ; as I say 

An Adverb defines, or it qualifies, some way, 

An adverb, a verb, or an adjective ; the same, 

An Adjective describes or qualifies a name. 

Prepositionsconnect words— (the word denotes between.) 

Conjunctions joining words and sentences are seen. 

Interjections, emotions, and passions must express 

In exclamatory phrases, as Oh! What distress! 



., SHREW AND SHKIMP. 39 

SHREW AND SHRIMP. 



Writtep by Phil. Franklin Perry. 
, Where is Webster's Dictionary ? 

Shrimp, her consort, ate a hough, [hok] 

Shrilly whistled for his shough ; [shok] 

Shrewdly fled across the lough. [lok] 

Shriveled shrimp hid in rough,; [ruff] 

Shrubs around him in the doughs, [duff's] 

Shrank he at the noise of choughs, [chuff's] 

Shjruggesd his shoulders at a slough. [sluff] 

Shrimp returned, but it was tough, — 
Shrouded run and lake, so rough,-— 
Shroff, howe'er, had gold, enough. 

Shrimp, in debt, was on a furlough. 
Shrieve the sheriff of the borough, — 
Sharp decoy he was, and thorough, — 
Shrank n(^t to arrest him, though 
Shrimp was hungry, and although 
Shrew was making cakes of dough. 
Shreds around, and a bread trough ; 
Shrill her voice, and bad her cough. 

Shrimp gave bail— went out to plough ; 
Shrimp was sad ; so. near the slough, 
Shrimp himself hung to a bough. 

Shrimp— cut down— with a hiccough 
Shrieked, "I thought I had got through !" 



Note. — The author believes that the foregoing contains every word 
in the English lauguage ending in " ough," and nearly every word coni- 
nicucinc; with "shr." 



40 LIN'ES ON TitK DSATH OF A FHIEXD. 

LINES ON THE DEATH OF A FlUEKD. 

You have left us ; you was weary, 
you hav6 passed the grave so dreary ; 
Now Immortals only bear thee, — 

With the anfj:el' band,— 
Dwellihg'With the spirits, ever. 
Death could earthly loved ones sever, 
But tlic angel spirits, never ; 

In the Spirit Land. 

Friends who watehed you, — ^hushed and {"arfuL 
' ' Watched you, dying,— sad and tearful, — 

Now remember that the cheerful 

Sufferer is home. — 
Home most lovely of all others — 
Oh ! may husband, sisters,' brothers 
Meet, and children meet a mother's 
Bpii'itj' bidding come. 

"VYhen we heard the solemn rolling 
Ot the dismal Death-bell's tolling, 
Deep emotion past, contl-olling, 

Then us oveicame. 
Death you iTom.us has been cleaving. 
Shocks us sudden this bereaving, 
To the soul us deeply grieving 

When we think your name. 

One 'the leas each moment fleeting; 
One the less each pulse is beating ; 
Shall we meet your kindly greeting, 

■In the land :ot Rest ? 
Quickly Time our days will measure ; 
If in Heayjen w:e lay treasure, 
We will live in endless pkasure,— ' 

Live forever blest. 



STANZA TO A FRTEND. il 

LINES WRITTEN IN A CEMETERY. 

On a liight in this inclosure 

Sit I languid ;' Oh, my ninse 
Come and photogi-aph my feelings;— 

Sad and flitting,— paint my Tiew^. 

Here the lovely zeyplier breezes. 

Wafted light as spirit's tread, 
Move with sad and solemn stillness, 

Over these, the silent dead. 

Silent, but I learn the lesson, 

That my unbound spirit must 
Soon return to Him who gave it. 

And the body to the dust. 

Like a globe of m()lten metal. 

Looks the sun low in the West ; 
And abroad th' extensive landscape, 

Weary Nature seems to rest. 

When my sun of life is setting, 

In my Maker I would rest. 
Calmly as the sun this evening, 

Sinks below the hazy West. 



STANZA TO A FRIEND. 

ilay many long and hap])y yeRr-^,' 

And peace, and joy be thine ; 
And when the end of earth appears, 
- . May Heav'n be yours and mine. 



43 THE RAMBLE, 2?0. 2. 

COMPOSITION. . 

When yon write your mind ■should be 
All untrammelled, clear and free, 
Shunning only evil. Then 
Try to chase it with your pen. 



THE RAMBLE. No, 2. 

Mr. Simple was a iarmer, 
And his wife, (he would not liarni her 
For the world,) she " wore the breeches," 
And she looked like Macbeth 's witches. 

When good natured, Mr. Simple 
Wore upon his cheek a dimi^le. 
Well, he uiade some trades so foolish, 
That it made the woman mulish ; 
And when she uncorked the vial 
Of her wrath, it was a, trial ; 
And instead of looking sheepish, 
With a hang head, and sleepish, 
He, with mien agape'in wonder. 
Said, " I rather hear it thunder." 

Once this man of steady habit 

Bought a dressed cat for a rabbit ; — 

Bought a roll of calfskin leather, 

Which proved birch bark rolled together ;- 

Bought a meadow, eighty acres 

Of some folks, — they were not Quakers, — 

Which with snow was covered over ; 

And, in spring, instead of clover. 



THE RAMBLE. NO. 2. 43 

There was a large pond of water, 
Only raising fish and otter ! 
He was stuck, (as people call it,) 
By a well stuffed calf-skin wallet, 
Which he bought in a great hurry, 
Of the finder, Nimble Flurry, 
Who was sleek and very pretty, 
But a rascal. What a pity ! 
Bought a horse for sound, and seven 
Years of age, which was eleven ; 
Balky, kicking, blind, and had in 
All three ringbones and a spavin. 
Simple's long drawn sigh was deepest, 
And he always felt the cheapest, 
When his wife, behind the curtain. 
Broke a trade he made for certain. 
When she said, " Ah ! you pretend to 
Be so sleepy ; but attend to 
It to-morrow ; and, now liar'kee^ 
Go trade back with Mr. Sharkey." 

Mr. Cutter is a tailor, 
And has been with Grate, the jailer ; 
And he takes three yards, and over, 
For the pants of little Glover ; . 
Each side cut so tight it pinches, 
And too short by some two inches ; 
Takes five yards for coat and jacket, 
And then makes a doleful racket 
When you ask him for the pieces. 
Says there were none. How he fleeces ! 
Thus his customers he torments. 
And of cabbage makes up garments, 
Which are very cheap he tells you— 
Cheating every time he sells you ! 
If it takes nine men to make a 
Taylor like him, they are shaky. 



44 THE RAMBLE. ^'0. 2. 

Mr. Dcmas, of Broad acre, — 

Not of silver spoons the maker, — 

Looks as honest as a parson ; 

Never was accused of arson, 

But he has sold tons of cider 

Made of apple-Juice and water ; 

Has chopped beets with small potatoes. 

Turnips, and a few tomatoes, 

Stuffed like sausages, and sold them ; — 

They were choice and rich, he told them I 

Paid half price for all his labor ; 

Worked them longer than his neighbor ; 

Worked them without rest or luncheon, 

But himself drank from a puncheon 

Rather too much cider brandy, 

And liad luncheon, good and handy. 

Always went to all the meetings, 

For he loved his neighbors' greetings. 

Cheated widows, and gave money 

To the missionaries — (funny). 

Ready is a good mechanic. 
He fared poorly in " the panic," 
For he was out of employment. 
Consequently of enjoyment. 
Once he entertained a notion. 
That (perpetual) a motion, 
Might, with patience, be invented. 
And that he would be contented. 
Could he see the thing completed. 
So he worked, though often greeted 
With the jeers of tliis and that one, 
Till convinced he could not make one. 
But the care and close attention 
Was a school to his invention 
And he made machines for sewing. 
And for reaping, and for mowing ; 



THE KAMBLE. NO. 2. 45 

(And we hope that before dyiug 
He will make one nghi foi- flying.) ' 
And they say he made a pattern 
Of the rings around Old Saturn. 
Arguments he will not enter, 
But keeps clear of every centre, 
And tlie faro on the corner. 
Kept by Mr. Holland Horner. 
He is quiet, true and steady 
On a job, and always Beady. 



Mr. Worry's age is thirty,— 
And his work is very dirty, — 
Works from sunrise in the morning. 
Busy, till he hears a w^arning 
From his wife, a linen spinner, 
Callin"! him from Work to dinner. 



He works hard this sultry w^eather, 
Although sickly, altogether. 
Often tired, very hungry, 
Yet 1 never saw him angry. 
He is soul-sick, yet seems quiet, 
Though possessing meagre diet. — 
Often eating only gruel, — 
Sometimes living without fuel ; 
Often does not burn a candle, 
And but little money handles ; 
And for books, although a scholar, 
He cannot afford a dollar. 

And he haves to stint his raiment 
To make out his monthly payment, 
At the time of its presentment; 
And he does not know contentment. 
For his prospects never brighten. 
That his loaded heart may lighten. 



4G CONTENTMENT. 

With a mind in ngitation, 
All his life is a vexation. 



CONTENTMENT. 

Show me a contented man, 
Who wants nothing, if you can, — 
No more leisure, 11,0 i)iore lore, 
No more money, nothing more. 

Would to Heaven that you could. 
For his joyous features would 
Be contagious. But I know 
No such mortal lives below. 



DITTO. 



John had been to the store and had run into debt, 
He had been a long time, and had not settled yet. 
It seemed to him time, and, as he had cash. 
He said to the merchant, " Let's settle the hash." 

So they opened the books upon the debtor side, 
They looked it all over ; and John said (aside) 
" I think there are things there I never have got ; 
My wife will remember each thing I have bo't." 

Then John went straight home and said, " Wife, do you know 

Of our ever having had any ditto ? 

DO. on the book he has written three times 

He claims it's for ditto and asks me three dimes." 



DITTO. 

Like a poet when searching for subject and time ; 
For adverb and adjective, measure Or rhyiiie, 
Slie remembered cheap calico, codfish and snuff — 
Never heard of ditto ; so replied in a huff, 

"The merchant's a rascal and yoli tell him so ! 
We never have had the first ounce of ditto !" 
John went to the store the very next day ' 
And said, "There's a little mistake, by the way, 

We never have had, sir, I'll bet all I'm worth, 

A pound of ditto in the house upon earth I" 

The merchant explained, so that John was convinced 

It made him feel cheap, and no wonder he winced. 

His anxious wife Riet'hiiii upon his i^iViM,' 
And of the ditto said, " What did you learn ?" 
" I'll tell you noAv, plainly, if you wish to know, 
I was a great fool, wife, and you are ditto. 



CONTRARY. 

Near a river, in a wild 

Dwelt a man of temper mild. 

Melancholy was his life, 

For he had a wilful wifcv 

Fortified, they me inform. 

She could make him yield by storm. 

Once- he came to supper late, 
And, for sauce, had a debate. 
Vexed he sfiid, despite all law, 
" Hold your everlasting jaw I" 



48 CONTRARY. 

'•Tyrant, wizzard, hog, luid ditiice," 
Screamed the daiue, aud left at once l 

3Iorning came ; lie early rose ; 
Laid his finger ou his hose ; 
ISaidj "I wonder where she's gone; 
Guess she staid with brother John 
Just across the other side 
Of the river. How she lied 1" 
Then to John's he did repair, 
But his wife had not ,been there. 
Frightened much, he said, '^ My wife 
Sartinly has lost her life ! 
VVhen.she tried to crpss the stream 
On the log, she tumbled in !" 
Then he summoned half the town — 
To the log they all came down 
And. began to search the stream 
For the body of the dame, . 

He went up stream — they went down — 

They called, "Hallo I you stupid clown ! 

Why, the current would, you know, 

Float the body down below I" 

"No," said he, '■'•she always was 

Contrary agin all laws, 

And would be more like, I we<?n. 

To tloat up than douoi the stream I"' 

Suddenly, and strange to toll. 

She appeared, alive and well I 

Not a thread of clothes were .wety 

But her teeth were firmly set. 

" Now 1 hope you have your pay," 

Quoth the dame. ; The man did say, 

" Well, next tim.6 I think, you've died^, 

'Hanged if 1 daOit let you slide T' : , 



49 



Ladles, never make believe 
You c:ui float up streum wllli ease- 
For, should you fV.l! in the stream. 
To your husbands it may seem 
You went up. and you may drown 
Ere they search the stream adown. 



POEJVliS, 

Delivered at a .Pic-Nic hi Barlhamsted on July FourtJi, 1868, 

Ladies (fair) and gentleman : — 
By your leave I'll speak, and then 
There are tables set this way, 
Loaded for our holiday. 

Johnny Bull, an Englishman, 
Had a slave called Uncle Sam, 
And he much abused him, too, 
Just as masters often do, — 
Till one sultry summer day, — 
Hot. but good for making hay, — 
Uncle Sam declared that lie 
Ever alter would be free. 
Johnny Bull then tried to whip 
Uncle Sam. Ship after ship 
Loads of troops came with a will. 
And they fought at Bunker Hill. 
After seven years of striie. 
And great loss of precious life, 
Uncle Sam was victor, and 
Johnny Bull gave up Our Land. 



50 



Uncle Sam the story tells 
Once a year l)y ringing' hells, 
And by blazing with great guns, 
Made of iron, (weighing tons,) 
Uncle Sam will have his way, 
But gives us a holiday. 

Everywhere, on every hand. 
Plenty crowns the lovely land ; 
Over mountain, hill and d:de. 
Lovely Autumn does not tail ; 
And each one in Yankeedom, 
Who will work, is sure of some. 

It was a long time ago, 

(Hundred years I think, or so,) 

That the people hereabout 

Caught bhick bears and splendid trout. 

Raised potatoes in the bogs, 

And built houses out of logs. 

Chimneys built of stone and clay, 

And a fire-place, too, they say 

That would hold a cord of wood, 

And would heat the house uj) good. 

Then they never saw a stove ; 

Then the ladies spun and wove 

('loth for sheeting, or to full, 

And they spun and carded wool. 

Well, — as people often say, — 
'• Every dog must have his day ;" 
So those old times passed away, 
IVat some relics with us stay. 
And we prize them dearly still. 
That old school house by the hill, 
Is a spot which many here, 
In reniemi)ranee still hold dear. 



51 



Every urchin of us went — 

■Some because that we were sent, 

8oiiie bccaust? we wished to be 

There to learn oui A B C. 

There we wrestled, played " I spy/' 

'' Poison,'' " tag,"' and •' goal' and '' bye," 

Bi.ked mud i)ies, and pop guns made 

And we there lirst learned to trade. 

Swapped -'jack knives'' a cent "to boot,' 

Chetitnut whistles learned to toot, 

Learned to rattle o'er and o'er 

" Four times 'leven is forty- lour." 

And I yet remember well 

flow we all stood up to spell. 

Antl all urchins in the lurch 

Had applied the oil of l)irch. 

There we met through rain and sleet. 

And took bitter with the sweet. 

Ent those days of yours and mint;, 
Xow are days of '^ Auld Lang Syne," 
And some schoolmates tried and true, 
Have these mountains bid adieu; 
Some to day we take by hand,— 
Some have joined anotlier band, 
Of tliem we in sorrow say, 
Gone, l)Ut not forgotten, they. 

Time is bearing us away. 
And these people, young and gay. 
Years and sorrow will make gray. 
And your children will be young, 
Singing gaily as you sung ; 
Then, as we met in our day 
Tiiey will meet for social play ; 
And 1 hope we may not cry 
When thev ulav ''the needle's eye," 



53 



Or shall have a belle or benu ; 
They will be young folks you know, 
"Croiug It while they are young.'" 
As some cha[i has said or sung — 
But I hope they'll live it through. 
Grow up useful tolks and true, 
Mow, kmd hearers, all, adieu I 






'•''ff" 18, 6th line fo . r .^•"" ""^ nev^r^.;.- 
P'-'-Se 19, 4th liue f o' „ , ';" '""■" '"'"' " ^"nil." ' 



"81,4.""'' ""' '-""^ fron, bou,,,,,-;'',.,,,.'.'.*,. '^'?8l'.' 

^'""''^ insert ''look.'- 



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